Harry Potter: Identity
by Parag shadeslayer
Summary: He has unruly black hair, wears glasses and is heir to the Potter family fortune. He is arrogant, mischevious, a flirt and a great quidditch player. All boys want to be him, all girls want to be with him. However he only has eyes for a particular redhead who it turns out cannot stand the sight of him. But he is not one to give up easily. He is a Marauder. He is Harry James Potter.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.**

Forgive any typographical errors and point them out for rectification.

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**Prologue: Waking Up**

_**A shrill noise could be heard in the distance. It was not unlike the sound made by a teapot when the water has boiled and the steam is straining to get out. The noise was faint but there was an ominous feeling about it.**_

_**Out in the woods, a solitary figure was walking alone beneath the starlit sky. The crescent moon very faintly lit up the way in front of him. This boy- or was it a man- had a mop of jet black hair and two green eyes behind his round spectacles.**_

_**Those eyes that usually were as sharp as emeralds had lost their shine and now all that remained were two murky orbs fading behind the glasses. He was walking without any sense of purpose, without any destination. To anyone who set eyes on the fellow, his walk was one of defeat, one of surrender. His walk was that of a man who had just lost everything.**_

_**As if to bring him out of this walk of shame, the tree trunks ahead of him began to transform. Each tree transforming to someone he knew– friends, teachers, acquaintances, family. He couldn't see them distinctly in the moonlight but their voices cut sharply through the still night air as each of them spoke to him one after the other.**_

"_**Hey man, wake up! You're gonna miss breakfast.''**_

"_**Today, we shall move on to transfiguring teacups.''**_

"_**Dude, look at that ass!''**_

"_**I could kill for some more of that treacle tart.''**_

_**The shrill noise that had been ringing in his ears suddenly picked up. Leaves nearby began to rustle, disturbing the air. But still the torrent of voices kept on coming.**_

_** "There is a prophecy.''**_

"_**Without your father's money, who are you?''**_

"_**Curious! Very curious!''**_

"_**I'll take the firebolt.''**_

"_**Your mudblood mother begged for her life.''**_

_**The noise was now so loud it was threatening to explode his eardrums. In the distance, a strong wind began to blow. A few branches snapped. But amidst all this the voices were still kept on coming.**_

"_**A seeker's only concern is the snitch.''**_

"_**You are my treadstone to immortality.''**_

"_**You will beg me to take you, Weasley.''**_

"_**You are a Marauder and we all are so proud of you.''**_

_**As the ringing reached its crescendo, chaos reigned all around. Trees groaned against the howling wind and many were uprooted. Leaves and branches flew around. The storm drowned all other sounds. The voices disappeared but not before he heard the last two words,**_

"_**Mischief Managed.''**_

_**before his consciousness faded away.**_

His eyes flew open and his senses started coming back. He was lying on a bed drenched in cold sweat. He couldn't remember what he had been dreaming about. Leaving that for the moment he looked around to see where he was. His vision was blurry and he couldn't make out the shapes around him.

However, he was sure of one thing. It was neither his dorm room nor his home. It –

But before he could think about anything else, he suddenly remembered what had happened. What he had said, what he had lost.

An ocean of guilt and desperation washed over him. All the air went out of him at once, he felt as though all his surroundings were being compressed around him. He felt the full weight of his actions. Wishing that he was dead, Harry Potter screamed in anguish and cried his way into darkness.

* * *

Once again, Harry Potter woke up in a bed he didn't recognise. He did not immediately open his eyes. His senses started materializing like bubbles surfacing in a deep ocean. But it wasn't as fast and sharp as usual. He was feeling groggy and could feel sleep pulling him into her outstretched arms once again. But this time he resisted.

Slowly, he opened his eyes. The brightness was blinding. He blinked twice but still everything remained out of focus. He slowly remembered something about his glasses and tried to reach out to where the bedside stand would be. But strangely something tugged at his wrist and prevented him from reaching out.

From somewhere to the side of his head, a device began pinging at regular intervals.

Resigning himself to the lack of his glasses, he resorted to his other faculties and let them take control.

His touch told him that he was in a bed- not posh but comfortable. He sniffed twice with his nostrils trying to discern any familiar smells. The air was pretty sterile but he got a few different smells. He knew most but couldn't place them. Like everything else around him, his brain was a little foggy.

From somewhere to his front, he heard the sound of a door opening. He saw the door open and someone enter. It was like seeing through a translucent membrane. For the brief instant that the door was open, a multitude of sounds rushed into the room together. Harry felt as though someone was blowing a foghorn in his ear. But then the door closed and it all stopped.

He saw the woman come towards him. Somewhere he felt a little scared. She stopped at his side. He felt the cold touch of his glasses as the woman placed them on his face.

Harry blinked twice and everything started coming into focus. He was in a room where everything was white.

The ceiling, the walls, the door, the floor, the bed and the bedsheet- all white. Next his gaze went on to the person hovering beside him. It was a woman clad in white robes. She had a kind face and dark hair with flecks of grey in it.

She opened her mouth and spoke in a kind voice,"How are you feeling?''

Harry thought a little and then said," Confused.''

The woman put a hand to his shoulder. Her touch was soft yet reassuring.

"It's alright.'' She smiled at him. "It's just the sedatives. They make you feel all groggy. They are not out of your system yet. Give them a few more hours. Maybe you should get some more sleep. Next time you wake things will be clearer.''

He wanted to tell her what he thought of "some more sleep'' but as soon as he heard the words sleep, his eyelids got heavy and once again he felt himself being dragged into unconsciousness.

His head dropped to one side and he fell asleep again. But not before he had seen his hand.

His hand.

His hand lying beside him.

His hand lying beside him handcuffed to the edge of the bed.

**Harry Potter: Identity**


	2. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter**

* * *

**Chapter 1: How have you been?**

Harry Potter was walking down a corridor. A long, never ending corridor. And just like the room he had been kept in, the corridor too, was white. The two walls, around 5 feet apart were white. The marble floor was white. The ceiling not more than 4 feet above his head, was also white. As he walked down the corridor to whatever unknown destination he was being taken to, he couldn't help but feel a little queasy as well as claustrophobic. What added to his discomfort was the fact that no matter how hard he looked, he could not make out the end of the corridor. It was really odd. The corridor was straight. Straight as an arrow. It wasn't like it turned and disappeared into a bend ahead. It just...went on. No wall or door or hall at the end. Just the never ending walls extending on both sides and finally disappearing into what looked like a white mist. That was all he could make out and it didn't make him feel safe at all.

_Maybe it's just an exceptionally long corridor_, Harry thought. Maybe there wasn't anything _different_ about it. Maybe it was all just in his head. He definitely didn't trust his own mind completely right now.

_But doesn't the fact that I know not to trust my own mind show that it's time to trust my own mind again, _the voice at the back of his head offered. He didn't know. He didn't know much about anything anymore. To know things, he had to understand them. To understand them, he had to think. To think made him remember. And every time he remembered what had happened, it felt as though someone was drilling a spike into his head.

Immersed in thought, he lost track of time and his surroundings and so jumped up when he heard a voice behind him.

"Alright stop there Harry. We're here."

Harry turned around to see healer Ellis looking at him and remembered that it had been her who had brought him out of his room into this strange corridor in the first place.

"Are you alright?" she asked looking a little concerned, "You seem startled."

"No," Harry said shaking his head a little, "I'm good. It's just, I got lost in thought and you just surprised me a little."

"Oh. Alright." she said looking relieved and then pointing to the portion of the wall on Harry's right said, "You should go in."

Now Harry had no idea what she meant as the walls were both continuous and he had no idea what he was supposed to go in through. He didn't remember seeing any doors along either wall and so was once again, very surprised when he turned his head and saw a doorknob on the wall a feet away from his right hand.

Staring at the knob he understood why he hadn't noticed any doors. It was because-and this was not surprising at all-like everything else, the doorknob too was white. The same as the walls. Not a shade lighter or darker. Just so.

Since there was a door knob, it must be attached to a door. But for the life of him, he couldn't make out the door in the wall. No gaps, no discontinuity along the wall anywhere.

_This is really weird. _The voice in his head eloquently offered.

"Well, go on." Healer Ellis urged him, "He's been waiting for quite some time now. And it's really not someone you should keep waiting."

So there was someone on the other side of the door. That intrigued him. Ever since he had woken up, he had been kept isolated with healer Ellis being the only person he talked to or even saw. So now the possibility of seeing another person excited him somewhat.

But he was also apprehensive. Since all of it happened, he hadn't really come into contact with anyone he knew. This would be the first time he would be facing someone that he possibly knew with the full knowledge of what had happened. What he had done. What he had said.

All these thoughts really started to make him anxious. And it now looked like an almost impossible task to raise his hand to the doorknob, turn it and push the door. Up until about fifteen minutes ago he had hated his "all-white" sterile room. Now, however, he would give anything to lock himself back up in solitary confinement.

But that not being an option, Harry mustered up whatever courage he had and taking a deep breath, grabbed the door knob, turned it and pushed.

The doorknob was metallic and felt cold against his palm. As soon as he pushed at the knob, a door materialised and smoothly without making any sound opened on its hinges into a room.

The room was well lit. It wasn't very large and was a square. It had only one door, the one Harry was standing in. The first thing that registered in his head was not the wizard sitting in the room but the wall on the opposite side. The wall wasn't white. It was a different colour. It was grey. After Merlin knew how long in monochromatic surroundings, even the dull grey looked like the warmest of colours.

Then he looked at the man who wasn't "someone you should keep waiting".

There was a medium sized metallic table at the centre of the room and the wizard sat at the far end with an empty chair on Harry's side.

Now this was a man he knew. Everyone in the wizarding world knew him. There would be no mistaking that long beard or those half moon spectacles. But the thing that had always intrigued Harry and even scared him a little was those piercing blue eyes of Albus Dumbledore.

* * *

_Meanwhile, few hours ago at the Burrow,_

It was the summer holidays and the entire Weasley clan except Percy, Bill and Charlie was sitting at the kitchen table eating breakfast. Hermione was present too. She had arrived only the day before after her parents had gone to New Zealand for the remaining three weeks of her holidays. They wanted her to come too but she convinced them to take the time for themselves. Hermione was well aware of her parents' busy schedules and their lack of time together. This would be the perfect opportunity for them to recharge their batteries and spend some alone time far away from all the hustle bustle of their lives. Mrs. Weasley had only been too happy to have her back. Her only woe was that Hermione could stay for _just _three weeks.

Meanwhile, sitting next to Hermione still half asleep, Ron was wondering why he had to wake up so early. His question was promptly answered by the plate of food his mother put in front of him. Food always cheered him up. With the sleep now mostly forgotten, Ron started with his breakfast oblivious to what everyone else was talking about. Had he been more attentive of his surroundings he would have seen his parents sharing uneasy glances between themselves and then looking at him.

"Pass me the coffee, will you Hermione" he said turning to the girl on his left. "Thanks" he said smiling, as she poured a cup and handed it to him.

"You're welcome." she said. "Ron," she called lightly, Ron engrossed again in his breakfast looked up at her, "don't you think your parents are acting a little weird today?"

"Weir-ow?" Ron asked mouth full of food.

Grimacing a little at the uncivilised ape talking to her she said, "I don't know. They look...tense. Like they are worried about something."

"I don't see it." Ron said, "They look the same to me."

"Maybe. But I just feel like they are about to tell us something we aren't going to like."

"Come on. Let it go Hermione. You think too much sometimes. If it's something we need to know they'll tell us. You are not going to find out anything if you worry and just stare hard at them." With that he went back to his breakfast. About to put another toast into his mouth, he stopped, as he realised something. "You know there _is_ something odd I just noticed." Ron said looking puzzled. Hermione watched hopefully at Ron hoping it wasn't just in her head and he felt it too, "Merlin knows how I missed it before."

"Yeah?" Hermione asked, "what is it?"

Ron looked at his plate of food and then looked back up at Hermione, paused a little making sure he was right, and then said, "Mom forgot to put eggs on my plate. Could you pass the eggs, Hermione?

* * *

Harry was sitting across the table from Dumbledore. It had been a couple of minutes since he had entered the room and been asked to take a seat. He sat down and looked at Dumbledore, not sure what to say. Dumbledore too was quiet and just looking at him. Not in that piercing way either, just looking.

Harry was okay with it. He was in no particular mood to chat. So he just looked around the room trying to see what secrets it held. Other than the two of them and the furniture, it was empty. The only other object in the room was a mirror. A large horizontal rectangular mirror on the wall to his right. He looked at it to see his own face looking back at him. Dumbledore turned to look at it too. Then, finally, he said "What do you think of it?"

"I am sorry, what?" Harry asked not sure what he meant.

"The mirror, do you like it?" Dumbledore asked him.

"Well yeah, I guess." he said wondering what sort of a question that was.

Dumbledore stared at him for a couple of seconds, his face serious, then smiled and said, "So Harry, how have you been?"

Now this was a question Harry had absolutely no idea how to answer.

Dumbledore saved him the trouble. "I apologise," he said, "when you are as old as I am and still need to run a school, you sometimes tend to forget few basic things. Like manners."

Harry smiled, "It's ok sir." he said, "I know you weren't talking about _that._" Then he decided to give it a try, "Well I guess I have been alright. At least as right as I can be, considering...you know."

Dummbledore nodded but remained silent.

So he carried on, "I haven't been doing much. Just sleeping mostly. Whenever I wake up I get to eat and then I go to sleep again. To be honest, it's become a little boring. I would really like to leave. Don't get me wrong. I know why I was kept here. But I think I am really ready to leave." Saying that, he stopped and looked at Dumbledore who had been watching him intently.

"We will get to that my boy," Dumbledore said "but first we need to talk about a couple of things."

"What things sir?" Harry asked, a little apprehensively. If he was asked to give a blow by blow account of that night, he would strangle Dumbledore dead right in this room, greatest wizard ever or not.

"Nothing hard, Harry." Dumbledore said as if reading his mind, "Nothing that will cause you any unnecessary trouble. Just a couple of basic things."

"Er...okay."

"Splendid." said Dumbledore clapping his hands, "let us get this over with. Now I am going to ask you a few questions and I need you to answer them truthfully. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"Can you tell me your full name?"

Harry raised his eyebrows.

Dumbledore gave him a small nod as if asking him to play along.

"Erm alright. My name is Harry J-James Potter."

"Do you know where you are right now?"

He had been wondering about this ever since he first got up in the white room and there was only one answer he arrived at, "St. Mungo's I guess. Even though I have never seen this part before. I could be wrong."

Dumbledore looked at the mirror for a couple of seconds before turning back to him, "Well you are and you aren't. The bed and everything else in your room is from St. Mungo's, so is healer Ellis. But we aren't in the hospital premises. No, we are somewhere more _secure_. After what happened, I decided it would be safer for you to be treated somewhere else. I needed to protect you both from reporters as well as the more, shall we say, unsavoury elements."

Harry gave him a weak smile and nodded. He didn't say anything else.

"You know what day it is?" Dumbledore asked next.

Harry shook his head, "I asked," he said "but she wouldn't say."

Dumbledore nodded, "She wasn't allowed to say. It's not her fault. Today is the 8th of August and it is about 11 in the morning."

Harry nodded and realised he had been staying in this place more a month already.

"I should wish you a delayed happy sixteenth birthday, my boy." Dumbledore said smiling.

"Yeah, I have had happier." Harry replied, sounding quite disinterested.

Dumbledore continued, "Now, the reason I am here today is because I think you are ready to leave here." That piqued Harry's interest, "However, there were a few issues that had to be solved regarding that."

"What do you mean, sir?" Harry asked, although he had a pretty good idea what those _issues _were.

"There has been considerable difficulty finding a guardian for you." said Dumbledore, confirming Harry's doubts.

"What about Uncle Moony?" Harry asked, and then gathering the courage asked what he knew was most likely true but didn't want to believe, "Was he...involved? Was he the...leak?"

Dumbledore sighed, "I am afraid I don't know, my boy." he said, "Both Mr. Lupin _and_ Pettigrew have been missing since that night. The Aurors are searching for them but so far have turned up with nothing."

"So? Where do I go then?" Harry asked knowing there was no one else that would take him. The Longbottoms were in even worse shape than he was. "OH MERLIN! I am so stupid. How is Neville, Professor? Is he alright?" he asked not believing he had forgotten about Neville.

"He is coping up as best as he can." Dumbledore replied looking really sad, "He asks about you whenever we meet. He is living with his grandmother. She wants you to stay with them but I didn't think it would be a good idea. They have enough on their plates as it is and more importantly, I don't want you two in the same place unless it is Hogwarts. Do you understand why, Harry?

He understood. Only too well. However, not wanting to dwell too much on it right now, he raised the more current question, "So then, where do I go?"

* * *

"NOOOOOOOOO." Ron groaned. "Why in the name of Merlin is that rich obnoxious arrogant prick coming here?"

"RON!" his mother exclaimed "What is wrong with you? He is your classmate, your friend. You have been sharing a dorm for _five _years. After what he has gone through in the last month, _that _is how you react? What is WRONG with you?" That last question was almost a shriek.

Breakfast over, Ron's parents had confirmed Hermione's suspicion by announcing that Harry-goddamn-Potter would be living in the Burrow for the remainder of the holidays. _None_ of the Weasley children had taken it well. Everyone was shocked, to say the least. Even the twins looked lost for words. Hermione just looked sad. And Ginny, Ginny's face had become a very scary shade of red. But it was Ron who was the first to put his feelings into words. But it looked like his mother hadn't taken well to those words. Well, he was in no mood to back down.

"Me? What is wrong with _me? _Seriously Mum? You and Dad decided to invite Prince Has-it-all to our house and you ask what is wrong with _me?_" He couldn't even get out more words to express his anger. He was _that_ angry.

Fred took up the torch next, "Why does he need to come here? Why not go home?" He sounded very calm to Ron's surprise.

"Would _you _like to come home if something like that happened to us?" their father asked, not just to Fred but everyone.

That shut all of them up. Ron was still seething with anger. His ears felt hot. He was sure his face had turned something similar to Ginny. He still couldn't believe that rich prick would be staying in his home. And he knew the logistics too. The only room free would be his room. No. This was too much. Harry-freaking-Potter had everything he didn't, he wasn't getting his room too. He needed to convince his parents. And just shouting at them wouldn't work. He needed to reason with them, convince them. So swallowing his anger, he took a deep breath and started to speak calmly. But Hermione beat him to it.

"He doesn't have any other legal guardians?" she asked.

"None that we know of. There is a muggle family on Lily's side but it really wouldn't be very feasible. It seems they have been out of touch for quite some time." Ron's father answered.

"And anyways, we couldn't send that poor boy to live with some Muggles." his mother said.

"Yeah, _poor _boy." Ron muttered under his breath, not loud enough for his parents to hear. It turned out they did.

"RON!" This time it was his father, "This is really disturbing from you. We thought you would be sensitive about this. That you would be happy to help your friend in this tough time. I certainly wasn't expecting this behaviour from you. Anyone of you."

All of them were staring at their plates now. It wasn't often their father scolded them but when he did he got really serious.

"Just think about what the boy has gone through." he continued, "Do any of you seriously think he really cares about how many Galleons he has in his vault right now?"

Ron felt really uncomfortable. He knew he should feel sorry for Harry Potter right now. He really had gone through something terrible. But did that mean Ron should forget everything else? Everything Potter had done to him? To Ginny? Did this one terrible event excuse the general ass that Harry Potter was? Should he forget how inferior he made him feel everytime they talked. Should he forget how he always looked down on him? How he ignored him? But he couldn't say all this out loud now. It would make him seem petty. And maybe it _was_ petty. But Ron didn't care. It was what it was. There wasn't always an explanation for everything. Sometimes things just were.

Their father stood up from his chair and smiled, "Ok kids," he said, "this wasn't how I had expected all this to go. But we'll try to forget about it and prepare to welcome our guest. I am going to the Ministry, I will bring Mr. Potter home sometime during the afternoon. You all should be ready. I hope you will all be kind to the boy and won't disappoint me. I am trusting all of you to get past...whatever it is that made you behave so insensitively...and show some decency in front of him. Save some lunch for him, Molly."

Their mum nodded and smiled. She looked really excited.

_Well, that makes one of us. _Ron thought.

* * *

"Are you sure about this, professor?" Harry asked, not sure if Dumbledore was serious.

"Why do you ask, Harry?" Dumbledore said, "I thought you would be happy to live with your friends and not go back home so soon."

"Well I am thankful about not going back. But why the Weasleys?" he said. He really didn't know them that well. Well, other than Ginny Weasley, of course, but he wasn't sharing _that _with Dumbledore. And she wasn't interested either. So there was that.

"Arthur and Molly were really excited about having you. We discussed it almost immediately after you were brought here. They really wanted to help you. Considering they were close friends with your parents and that I trust them, it seemed like the logical choice. They are among the oldest members of the Order. Moreover, Ronald being your friend I assumed you would like to stay with them. From what I understand, Ms. Granger will be there too. Is there any problem, Harry?"

So, the entire gang would be there. Granger and the Weasleys. Maybe it wouldn't be that bad. And he wasn't in any mood to care about all that either. He could stay with Mundungus Fletcher for all he cared. There were more important things to do right now. Plans had to be made. Plans to kill a certain motherfu-

"Harry?"

Harry was startled back to reality. He had got lost in his plans for revenge. Dumbledore was looking at him with some concern. So he replied quickly, "Er...no-no problem, sir. No problem at all. If it's not a problem for them, I am happy to go. I just...got lost in thought."

Dumbledore nodded. "Well that's settled then. Very good." He clapped his hands again.

"Uh...sir, I have been wondering," Harry began, he really couldn't care much about shacking up with the Weasleys, but he did care-a lot-about this, "what are we going to do about-?" he didn't finish the question. He didn't need to. Dumbledore understood.

"Ah, my boy." Dumbledore looked really sad as he said this. It looked like he really cared about what Harry was going through. "We do need to talk about that. But this is not the time. There will be time later for that. For now, we need to focus on getting you better."

"But I am better. I am ready, sir." Harry protested. "I don't need to recuperate any more."

"You do Harry." Dumbledore said firmly, but not unkindly. "Your injuries may have healed, but _you_ have not. You need to take your time."

"But-" Harry's emotions that were already so built up were about to spill out, "But he's just sitting there professor. Just sitting there with Malfoy and Lestrange and all his other followers. Laughing at us, laughing at ME." He shouted the last word and pounded his fist on the table. That hurt.

"Harry." Dumbledore hadn't moved an inch, "I know how you are feeling. Believe me, my boy, I do. But this isn't the way. We won't succeed this way. We will need to be prepared."

"What do you mean, prepared?" Harry said, calm now. He wanted to shout more, but he was simply exhausted. This talk had gone on for too long. But he needed to hear this. He needed to know what was stopping everyone from killing that son of a bitch. It couldn't be that hard. He continued, "Why is it so hard to catch one guy and his team of no good bumbling idiots and bring them to justice? Come to think of it, why has no one _ever _done this? No, I mean, I know he is powerful...really powerful...trust me, I know. I am speaking from experience. But so are you. So are the aurors. Do you really want me to believe Professor, that you couldn't take out all those Death Eaters single handedly if you wanted?"

Dummbledore smiled, "You have given this some thought, Harry. But it is not that simple. Killing Tom won't be that simple. But this is not the time, my boy." Harry sighed. Dumbledore continued, "That time will come harry, sooner than you think. But for now I need you to rest. Until school restarts, at least. Then we shall talk about this, in some detail. I don't want you worrying about it all the time. Do you understand?"

Harry looked at Dumbledore. He didn't understand, but he knew it wouldn't be of much use now saying that. So he nodded. Dumbledore smiled. This had to be enough for now. He needed to rest. It was just for three more weeks. And he won't admit it to Dumbledore but it was taking everything he not do drop dead right now. He _really _needed the rest.

Dumbledore clapped his hands and got up. He came around the table and went past Harry to the door. He got up too and caught the chair for support. He was feeling a little dizzy. He had not eaten, he was really hungry.

Dumbledore was already out of the room. Harry walked to the door, opened it and then got the shock of his life when he found himself in the Headmaster's study.

Dumbledore was looking at him with a wide smile on his face and eyes twinkling.

Harry just stood there his mouth hanging open. He was at Hogwarts.

"The castle never ceases to amaze, does it my boy?"

"No sir, it does not." Harry replied, regaining his composure.

"Come on. I will explain on the way out. We need to get you something to eat. You are looking dangerously pale." Dumbledore walked to the door and Harry followed. The headmaster was about to open the door when Harry called him. He needed to make something clear. "Sir?"

Dumbledore turned around, "Yes Harry?"

Harry took a deep breath, composed himself and continued, "One month ago Voldemort murdered my parents and my Godfather in cold blood. There will come a day when he will be in front of me. On that day, I won't stun him or disarm. I _will _kill him. You know that, right?" This was not a declaration. Not an announcement for everyone to hear. This was just for him. This was a promise. This was his destiny.

Dumbledore stared at him for a while, face blank before smiling sadly and saying, "That's what I am afraid of."

**-Harry Potter: Identity-**

** antwerp96: Thank you. here's ch 1. hope u lyk it. keep reviewing.**


	3. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.**

**A/N: Thank you for the initial response to the story. I am really excited about writing this story. I would like to update more frequently but my insane schedule just doesn't allow me. **

**I would like to take a moment to thank you all for all the reviews, PMs, favourites and alerts.**

**If you have any questions or suggestions about the story, do tell.**

**Forgive any typos.**

**Here's chapter 2.**

**I hope you enjoy it.**

* * *

**Chapter 2: Wronski Feint**

"Ministry of Magic" shouted Harry as he threw the Floo powder into Dumbledore's fireplace.

He spun faster and faster as he hurtled through the Floo network, elbows tucked to his side and random fireplaces flashing past his sight. He started feeling sick and would have thrown up had he not started to slow down at that moment. He threw out his hands in front of him and came to a halt. He stepped out of the fireplace into the vast entrance hall of the Ministry. He dusted the soot off himself. Dumbledore was waiting for him.

"Are you alright my boy?" Dumbledore asked, "You look a little pale."

"I'm good, sir. It's just the floo. Never been a big fan of it." Harry replied.

Dumbledore smiled, "Brilliant. Let's get going then. You must be anxious to meet your friends again."

Harry just smiled back. He wouldn't really call them _friends._

Dumbledore turned around and set off towards the elevators that would take them up to the various offices.

Harry followed the headmaster not really sure what he felt about this upcoming union with the Weasleys and Granger.

They entered one of the elevators and waited as it filled up and then went up.

Before long, the cool female voice announced, "Level two, Department of Magical Law Enforcement, including the Improper Use of Magic Office, Auror Headquarters, and Wizengamot Administration Services." As the lift came to a halt.

"That's us, Harry." Dumbledore said and got out.

Harry's stomach churned. This was the floor where his Dad and Uncle Padfoot had worked. He had been to the Auror offices many times when he was younger. He had forgotten that Arthur Weasley also worked on this floor. He had only met the man a couple of times and that too in passing.

_None of it matters. Get a hold of yourself and get this over with. _He said to himself and then with some effort stepped out of the lift.

He was aware of Dumbledore watching him but couldn't look up at him. So he just kept staring at his shoes.

Harry felt Dumbledore's hand on his shoulder as he heard the headmaster say, "Give it a little time, Harry. It will get easier."

He looked up to see Dumbledore looking at him, the old man's face a mixture of sorrow and sympathy. It took all his self control at that moment to not start crying.

The grief would attack in waves. It would be absent for some time and then suddenly would hit him again. This was one of those moments. Whenever the grief struck, he felt so helpless and without hope. Everything would seem cold and bleak.

_Not now. Not now. Please not now._ Harry pleaded, not sure to whom. If Dumbledore saw him shut down now, he would be sent back to his hospital room. And Merlin knew he hated that room.

So, praying to whatever powers there were that he wasn't going to suffer another breakdown, he gestured Dumbledore to lead the way.

Harry followed Dumbledore to the other end of the floor to the _Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office._

During the whole walk down the corridor, he glued his eyes to the floor. He couldn't bring himself to watch the Auror offices where he knew would be his father and uncle's cubicles. He wondered if the cubicles had been already reassigned to someone else. They most probably had. Just because his world had stopped for the last month didn't mean anyone else's did too. The world went on.

"Ah, Arthur. There you are." Harry was brought out of his thoughts by Dumbledore greeting Arthur Weasley.

Harry looked at the man who had been kind enough to let him stay at his house. He looked very ordinary. Tall, thin and balding. But whatever hair he did have was the unmistakable red of all the Weasleys that Harry knew.

The office, if that's what it was, wasn't much to look at. It was the size of a broom cupboard-maybe smaller-with two desks and two chairs crammed into the space and the remaining space filled with filing cabinets.

He watched as the two men shook hands. Then Arthur Weasley turned to look at him, "Harry," he called as he extended his hand, "how are you my boy? I am very sorry for your loss."

Harry shook his hand and said, "I am fine, Mr. Weasley and thank you."

"We are really happy that you will be staying with us for the rest of the holidays. I knew your parents well. I was very fond of them. In fact James and Sirius worked on this floor as well. I heard a lot about you from them and your mother. I know what you are going through, Harry and you should know that we are all with you."

_No you don't know what I am going through._ "You're very kind, sir. Thank you."

"We should get going. There's no reason to keep waiting." Mr. Weasley said

_Here we go then_, thought Harry as he stood aside and let Mr. Weasley and Dumbledore walk out of the office and lead the way.

They walked back down the corridor and down the elevator to the Atrium. They reached the fireplaces and the two grown-ups shook hands.

Dumbledore said his goodbyes to Harry and was about to leave when Harry quickly said, "Um...sir, could I have a quick word before you leave?"

"Of course, Harry." Dumbledore replied and looked at him curiously. Now it got awkward for Harry. He looked hesitantly at Arthur Weasley hoping the man would take the hint and not make him ask. He did get the hint.

"Oh...ok." Mr. Weasley said, realising what Harry meant, "I'll get going then. You follow me when you're ready, Harry."

"Thank you, sir." Harry said and watched as the red headed man apparated on the spot.

"What is it Harry? I am sure we covered everything we needed to talk about earlier today." Dumbledore said looking at him curiously. If he was surprised at this request, he didn't show it.

"Er...sir," harry began, not feeling very comfortable, "what will be the monetary situation during my stay with the Weasleys?"

Harry waited for Dumbledore to answer. He didn't. He just kept looking at Harry.

Feeling a little flustered, Harry continued, "I mean, I know about their financial condition. They are a huge family as it is. Can they afford another person living with them for the rest of the month? Two, if you count Granger."

Dumbledore still didn't reply. Feeling as though this wasn't a really good question to bring up or as though he wasn't doing a good job explaining, he continued, "Don't get me wrong, sir. I am grateful for what they are offering. But I don't want to burden them. I have the money. I can pay them for their trouble."

Harry stopped speaking. That was it. He had said all he could.

Finally, Dumbledore started to speak, "Harry," he said, his voice a little firmer than it had been all day, "I understand why you just asked me what you did. However, I would suggest you _not _to bring up the issue in front of Molly and Arthur. Due to the circumstances of your upbringing, you didn't get to meet a lot of people you would have met otherwise. But I want you to know that there are a lot of people, who, even if you don't know them, were really close with your parents and really care about you. Molly and Arthur are two of them. Now, you don't need to worry about them. They know what they are doing and really want to help you. So," Dumbledore's voice softened, "you just take care of yourself now, my boy."

Harry was confused. He hadn't asked a wrong question. It was a valid one. But more than that he was confused by what Dumbledore had said. Did the Weasleys-and even more people-actually care about him? Was this not just a case of pity and charity for them? He was at a loss. But this wasn't the time to think of these things. Because everytime he would think for a prolonged session, his head would hurt. And anyways, he had the rest of the summer to figure out these questions.

So, keeping that aside for now, Harry assured Dumbledore that he would behave at the Weasleys' and thanked the Headmaster for all his help during his recovery.

Then asking Dumbledore what he was supposed to say, he stepped into one of the fireplaces, threw some powder and shouted, "THE BURROW."

* * *

_**Flashback**_

Harry was floating in the air twenty feet above all the other players watching the game unfold below him. It was the first Quidditch game of the season: Gryffindor vs Slytherin. It was a bright and sunny day. As was common in this particular game, three-fourth of the crowd was red and gold while the remaining was green and silver. He had always found this rivalry between the houses amusing. The rivalry always ran deep against Slytherin. Students of the other three houses got along pretty well but whenever Slytherins were thrown into the mix, there would be trouble.

And trouble was what Harry excelled at. Being a Marauder, causing trouble was part of his job description. His uncle Sirius had made it clear the first time Harry received his Hogwarts letter that he expected reports of detentions every time Harry wrote to him. His dad had wholeheartedly agreed while his mum and uncle Moony looked on helplessly. And Harry had not disappointed. He now held the record for the fastest detention ever at Hogwarts. As well as the fastest howler, from his mum. But that did not discourage him. It just made him cause even more trouble, just discreetly. And as time went on, his pranks became more elaborate and he got caught less and less. That made uncle Sirius even happier than before.

WHOOSH!

Harry was awoken from his reverie as a Bludger missed his face by inches. "Ooooooh" went the crowd.

"And the Gryffindor seeker avoids a couple of nights at the Hospital wing just by a few millimetres." Lee Jordan announced through his megaphone.

"Hey Potter!" Harry looked down to see Angelina Johnson glaring at him, "Keep your head in the game. You need to catch the snitch, not the Bludger in your face."

"Yeah?" Harry yelled back, "That's funny. Not as funny as the way you're playing, though. Want me to teach you how to hold the Quaffle?"

She looked like she was going to fly up to him when Wood's voice reached them, "Knock it off, you two. Get back in the game."

Harry had a few more things to say to Angelina but Wood was right. He needed to get back to the game. If Malfoy saw the snitch while he was busy fighting with his own team members, there would be no coming back from that embarrassment.

With that he went back to his patrolling duties. He looked over to check on Malfoy flying twenty feet away from him. There was nothing to worry about. Malfoy was busy looking at Harry and his teammates fighting. When they made eye contact, Malfoy sneered at him.

"Problems within the family, Potter?" Malfoy shouted. "Want me to-"

WHAM!

Harry never found out what Malfoy was about to offer as at that exact moment they both heard the sound and turned in the air to see a Bludger catch one of the Slytherin beaters clean in the stomach.

Madam Hooch's whistle went off as the crowd oooh'ed.

Harry looked over to see Fred Weasley sitting on his broom smiling as his brother flew over to pat him on the back. Fred saw Harry looking at him and gave the thumbs up and a big wink.

Harry smiled and gave back a thumbs up.

He had got on well with the Weasley twins ever since he met them. He didn't know them all that well but whenever they met during Quidditch practice-and a couple of detentions during Harry's first year-he liked them. He liked talking with them. Their pranks were really good and as much as Harry hated to admit it he had learnt a thing or two from them.

And what even raised their status in Harry's book was that they were really good beaters. They had been in the team since before Harry joined and had become an indispensable part of the team. What was more surprising for Harry was that coming from a family of low means, they were as good as anyone else around, possibly better. They didn't have the best brooms or the most current gear, but they kept the opposition players busy. This had thought Harry a couple of things about money and talent.

Speaking of money, Harry was again brought out of his thoughts, this time by Malfoy who had flown close to him while the game had been stopped.

"Weasley shouldn't have done that." he said, in what Harry assumed was his scary voice. "He's going to pay for it, on _or off_ the field."

Remaining very calm, Harry replied, "As far as the game is concerned, you all couldn't come up with one decent beater even if you tried. So he's safe on that front. And as far as _off_ the field is concerned, I would suggest you stop that train of thought…" Harry looked Malfoy dead in the eye, "before I make you."

Harry's threat had the desired effect. Malfoy's face got even paler, if it was possible. He recovered to laugh at Harry but the damage was already done. "I am not scared of you, Potter." he said with some conviction,

"Good for you, dear." Harry gave him the thumbs-up.

Malfoy, embarrassed, continued, "You know, you should stop running your loud mouth everywhere, Potter. You don't want to be on the wrong side of the wrong people. Especially here, where you are miles away from your father and your pet dog."

Harry didn't say anything. He would have but at that moment, Madam Hooch's whistle went back again and everyone resumed their positions.

Ten minutes later, Harry still hadn't spotted the snitch. He was starting to get bored. He was on one side of the pitch closer to the Gryffindor goalposts and Malfoy on the other side, both circling slowly, looking for the first hint of gold.

And then Harry saw the first hint of gold. Unfortunately, it was behind Malfoy's head. His stomach lurched. This couldn't be happening. Some of the crowd even saw it and gasped.

At this point, if Malfoy saw where the crowd was beginning to look at, he would turn around and that would be it. Game over. It would take him one second. Even if Harry flew full speed across the pitch, it would take him twenty seconds to get there.

Harry didn't think. He had to try. He pointed his broom in the direction, bent down completely and shot straight at his target like an arrow, praying to whatever powers there were.

But Harry's target wasn't the snitch. He was shooting straight down to the centre of the pitch. Where there was nothing. His only hope was that Malfoy, in the fear that Harry had seen the snitch, would follow without looking or thinking.

And that's what he did.

Harry looked back as he was shooting to the ground and sure enough, there was Malfoy at his tail.

The crowd was now cheering. For what Harry didn't know. Surely they knew there was nothing down there?

Some of the anxiety left Harry. Malfoy hadn't caught the snitch.

But a completely newer anxiety caught hold of him. The ground was looming nearer with every passing second and he was hurtling towards it at breakneck speed.

And so was Malfoy. He was just behind Harry.

The cheering was reaching its loudest yet, everyone getting caught up in anticipation of what the climax of this high speed chase would be.

The ground got ever so closer. Harry knew he would hit it in five seconds. And he should slow down. But if he slowed down, so would Malfoy. And then Harry's plan wouldn't work.

Four seconds…he still didn't slow down.

Three seconds…some of the crowd was now screaming, whether in excitement or fear, Harry didn't know.

Two seconds…still going.

One second…he pulled his broom up with all his strength his legs brushed the grass as his broom levelled off with the ground and flew away along it. Keeping the momentum Harry shot straight towards the feet of the Slytherin goalpost

SMACKKKK!

Harry heard Malfoy's broom snap. He heard Malfoy hit the ground. He heard the crowd gasp. He might have even heard a few bones crack. But he didn't slow down. He didn't look back. Because he still hadn't heard the whistle. And because the snitch was now floating at the foot of the Slytherin centre goalpost, a few inches above the ground.

Harry's palm closed around the golden ball a fraction of a second before Madam Hooch's whistle blew to check on the limp Malfoy.

The whole stadium went silent.

Madam Hooch looked at Harry and then blew the whistle to signal the end of the game. She immediately started checking up on Malfoy as Harry saw McGonagall, Flitwick and Snape running towards where the Slytherin seeker lay motionless.

It took a few minutes.

The professors reached Malfoy and checked him.

The teams came down. The Gryffindor team landed near Harry and stood beside him.

The Slytherin team landed a few feet away from where the professors stood over Malfoy.

The professors talked for a few seconds.

Then Flitwick took out his wand and levitated the limp body of Malfoy and took it to the castle with the other professors following.

And then all hell broke loose.

The crowd erupted. A large section started cheering. A smaller section started booing and shouting unpleasant things.

The Slytherin team, with murderous looks, started walking towards where the Gryffindor team stood. But the crowd reached Harry and his team before the Slytherins.

Everyone was shouting. People were patting Harry on the back. It was mostly the Red and Gold faction. The Slytherin team and crowd, harry knew wanted to get to him, but they saw the size of the crowd and thought the better of it.

And so it was, that the story of a third-year student Harry Potter pulling off the best Wronski Feint anyone had seen in a long time would come to be repeated in these grounds and this school for years to come.

It was twenty minutes later that Harry got out of the changing room, feeling really good about himself and his performance. But there was also a slight nagging at the back of his mind. Had he gone too far with Malfoy? _Not at all. _He reassured himself. _It wasn't anything illegal. There wasn't any backhanded stuff involved. It was a legal move. People don' do it more often because they can't. It's that simple. I myself was in danger too. And anyway, I am thinking too much. Had it been the other way round, Malfoy would have done something illegal and would have been celebrating right now. I am getting soft._

Lost in his own thoughts, he didn't hear his name being called repeatedly and hence was surprised when his best friend finally caught up to him and grabbed his shoulder.

"What the-" began a startled Harry, and then relaxed as he saw Neville. "You scared me." he said.

"I yelled your name, like, ten times," said Neville "but you were lost in your own world."

"Really?" asked Harry, surprised, "I didn't hear. Where are you coming from?"

"Hospital wing." replied Neville, "Went to check up on Malfoy."

Harry was surprised. Not that he should have been-he had known Neville all his life-but this guy never stopped surprising him. The amount of goodwill he possessed was staggering for Harry. These house rivalries meant next to nothing for Neville, not that he wasn't loyal to Gryffindor, but he just never got involved in the petty fights. He cared equally about everyone. And helped everyone. Anyone he saw in need of help, he would. Even if it was a Slytherin. "Why shouldn't I?" he would ask, every time Harry would see him do a favour for a stranger and ask him why. And Harry would have no answer.

His surprise must have showed on his face because Neville said, "C'mon, it's not that big a deal. I know we aren't supposed to care about them, but this is a special case. It was serious. I mean did you see the way he hit the ground? Did you hear the sounds? His broom snapping? Him hitting the ground? And the worst of it, what was that cracking sound? Merlin knows how many bones he broke. And then the way he just went limp? I thought you had killed hi-"

Neville realised his mistake. A little too late. The shock showed on his face. "Oh shit. I am sorry Harry. I didn't mean that. I got a little carried away. Of course it wasn't that bad. I am sure it looked worse, much worse, than it actually was."

Harry nodded looking downwards, not able to say anything. All the self-accusations were hitting hard now.

Neville put a shoulder around him and squeezed, saying, "Hey, don't beat yourself up about it. It wasn't your fault Malfoy fell into your trap. I mean it was quite obvious what you were doing. Okay, maybe not that obvious, considering the heat of the moment, but towards the end, trust me it was. It _should _have been_, _to him. The fact that he was so dumb cannot possibly be your fault. And it's not like you did it just to hurt him." Neville waited for Harry to reply. When none came, he asked, "You didn't, right? It was just so he wouldn't see the snitch, right?"

Harry looked at his best friend, and said, "I'm not sure."

If Neville was surprised, he didn't show it. Instead he carried on, confidently, "Oh c'mon. of course you didn't. Even if it was Malfoy, you wouldn't do that just to hurt him. I know you that much. You're just doubting yourself now because the fool flew head first into the ground. Now, cheer up."

It was his friend's conviction and confidence in him that made Harry smile. It lifted some of the weight off him. Neville was right. He wouldn't do that even to Malfoy. And the fact that he was feeling bad now further showed that.

"You know," Neville said, "that was some move. It's the best damn piece of flying I have ever seen in my life."

Now Harry was back into his groove. "It was, wasn't it? You know, maybe I should have pulled out a second earlier."

"You think?" Neville raised an eyebrow, "I thought you would crash. I was sure of it. Everyone was. You can't know how close you came. Trust me when I say this, you _could_ not have come any closer, without crashing into the dirt. But I will also say this, I feel lucky to have watched you today Harry."

These words had the intended effect. Harry really cheered up on hearing such high praise. Especially from someone whom he loved.

He was really glad that he had a friend like Neville. He always knew how to cheer him up. Whenever Harry would go into one of his moods, it would be Neville who would finally get him out of it.

Both of them walked quietly the rest of the way towards the Gryffindor common room. Lost in his thoughts, Harry didn't pay a lot of attention when they met one of their classmates.

He stopped as Neville talked with the other boy about something related to the party that would be thrown that night. Harry didn't register much of the conversation, immersed in his own thoughts. And once Neville finished his conversation they started walking towards the common room again.

Just as they had resumed walking, he heard the boy call him, "Hey Harry. Great game today. It was a sick move in the end."

Harry and Neville turned around. Neville was smiling. It took Harry a second to register what the boy had said. He hadn't been paying attention. He just stared at the boy, trying hard to recall what he had said. He couldn't remember it for the life of him. But he was sure it had been a complement about the game. So he did the politest thing he could. He thanked him, "Thanks Seamus, see you at the party tonight." That ought to do it.

For some reason, Seamus' face turned red. Redder than Harry had thought was possible. And then he just turned around and walked away.

"That was odd." Harry said looking at Neville, who wasn't smiling anymore, "What happened? Did I say something wrong? He did complement me, didn't he?"

Neville slapped him on the back of his head.

"Ow!" Harry was surprised by the sudden act of hostility, but he knew he had said something wrong. He just wasn't sure what.

"What is it with you? Why do you get lost in the middle of conversations? It's like you just don't care about what people have to say. It's really embarrassing for the other guy. You know? It feels really dismissive." Now Neville was purely scolding him. He did not enjoy this part of their friendship.

"Tell me already, will you? What did I say wrong? I swear I thought he had complemented me."

Neville stared at him for a few seconds and then sighed and said, "He did. Unfortunately, he _did_ complement you."

Harry just stared back. He still couldn't figure it out.

Neville now looked utterly perplexed, "YOU IDIOT!" he shouted, "You have shared a dorm with him for over two years. You still can't figure it out?"

Neville looked him expectantly.

Harry looked back. Completely blank.

Then finally Neville said, "It was Ron."

**-Harry Potter: Identity-**

* * *

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